…pssst! wanna great investment for yer money?… buy a footballer…

…over half a century ago, some of yeez will know I played professional football for a Scottish First Division side called Third Lanark (not,‘Third Lanark Nil‘, as the old chestnut goes)… because I signed for them on what was known as ‘S’ Forms, being still a S-choolboy at that time, the weekly pay I received would hardly buy a doughnut in today’s money… indeed the emolument was subsidized by ‘boot money’, which was a (very, very, very small) folded series of ten shilling notes (emb’dy remember them?) and the larger green one-pound notes, tucked into our training boots every Thursday evening… fast forward to today’s breed of soccer players, most of whose salaries scarcely match their skill sets… indeed, for some of them the ‘player’ label seems to veer toward the theatrical rather than the sporting…


…but let’s move away from the madness of the ballooning weekly wage packets, an idiom which still reflects the origins of the sport as ‘the working man’s game’, and have a squint at the current transfer prices for these Diving Divas… the lower end of that transfer business now attracts £20,000,000 per player… just think about that for minute… say it out loud… twenty million pounds... and the majority of them excel only at kicking a football miles off target… at apoplectic screaming at officials who deign to curb their transgressions on the turf… at performing acrobatic ‘dying swan scenarios’ when tapped on the shoulder by a passing fly…


…but still the clubs pay for them and it seems with the crazy monies being paid by the television broadcasters, that the bar for transfer prices will be raised even further in the future… so here’s the tip of the year… and yeez heard it here first… pssst! wanna great investment for yer money?… buy a footballer… see yeez later… LUV YEEZ!…



Filed under Blether, Scribbling & Stuff

…my authoress pal, Constance Masters, has a new title out there… have a look…

…looking for a spanking good novel?… bedroom scenes with frolic and laughter… and a good story line to boot… what more d’yeez need?… Constance Masters has her new title, An Unexpected Wife,  available now…

AnUnexpectedWife promo 5 …here’s yer lead-in…

After moving away for college, Sage Worthington settled down to a job in the city and only came back to her parents’ ranch for weekends and holidays. After receiving the call that changed her life forever, she rushed back to the place she always thought of as home and to the two little siblings who she loved dearly. This was where she was needed and this was where she wanted to be.

Clifton Welsh had been Sage’s next door neighbour for as long as she could remember. He was raised by his grandparents who turned their ranch over to him. They have retired to a smaller house on the property built for them on their favourite patch of the family land. Cliff remembered Sage as a pesky teenager who had needed a good spanking. Now she was back and he saw her as a beautiful twenty-four-year-old who still needed a good spanking.

Sage needs a husband and she needs him fast, before she loses custody of her younger brother and sister. Cliff is determined to use any means necessary to stop Sage from doing something rash and dangerous. He is even willing to marry her himself but is Sage ready to commit to an old-fashioned man who spanks?

An Unexpected Wife…and a taster to keep yeez interested…

“Cliff boy! You’re back,” his grandpa said, hobbling out to greet the truck as he pulled in front of the house.

“Let me see what ya got.” The older man wandered around back and peeked through the slats of truck. “They are beauties, all of them.”

“Hi, Grandpa, yes they are. Everything okay? Didn’t work too hard did you?” Cliff asked.

“No, didn’t really do anything much except maybe give a little advice here and there.”

“I’m sure everyone appreciated your wisdom.” Cliff bit back a grin.

“Don’t you be sassin’ your old grandfather, some people have respect for wisdom. You have your new ways but nothing was wrong with the way we used to do things.”

“I know, Grandpa, I was only joking.”

“So was I.” The older man chuckled, “A bit. Anyway, I better get back to your grandmother, she’ll have my lunch ready and you know she doesn’t like to be kept waiting. You can check in with Chuck later.”

“Thanks again, Gramps, I will.” Chuck was his head ranch hand and he really didn’t need to check with anything at all. He trusted Chuck with anything and everything. It was good though that his grandpa still felt needed, which is why he’d asked him to call in and check on things from time to time.

Grandpa nodded and smiled. “Oh, by the way, your grandma made me bring you over a plate. It’s in the fridge.”

“That’ll be real good, Grandpa, tell her thanks.” His stomach was rumbling already just thinking about food. His grandma always did leave him something nice. That’s why he hadn’t stopped for any fast food on the long drive home.

“Oh, and there’s pie too.”

“Is Gran trying to fatten me up for Christmas?”

“Could be, she says you’re too thin.” The older man climbed into his car and rolled down the window. “She also said that you need reminding what it would be like to have someone cook for you all the time.”

Cliff smiled. “She moving back in? Sick of the new house already?”

“She thinks you need a wife and children.”

“Does she now? Subtle little thing.”

“Smart too. Oh, I left you the paper to read.” His grandfather grinned and pulled away, driving down the private road.

Chuck came out from the barn smiling. “Good to see ya.”

“Hey, you too. Did you happen to notice that the Worthington place was up for sale?”

“Uh, no I didn’t. I haven’t been off the place since you left.”

“No matter, I’ll go and see Sage after I eat.”

“I’ll get help and take care of these three. You go and get something to eat.”

“Thanks, Chuck. I’d watch that one.” He pointed to the oldest of the three. “He’s ornery.”

“Will do.”

Cliff smiled and headed into the house to devour his food. Talking to his grandfather always made him smile. He was glad they had decided to stay on the property. The smaller house had been a compromise. It was far enough away from the main house that the older couple had some peace and privacy and close enough that they could all still check on each other. It had been meant to be him that was doing the checking on them but it seemed most of the time to be him that was getting checked on.

He poured himself a cool glass of sweet tea. The plate of delicious food, still steaming from the microwave, was now on the table waiting for him. Cliff opened the paper to read while he ate. After flicking through most of the same old, same old news he turned to the classifieds, as was his normal habit, only to be stopped in his tracks. He had to consciously make himself swallow the mouthful of food that was threatening to choke him. “What in the world? Of all the fool-hardy, downright stupid ideas!” He had of course stumbled upon Sage’s ad and he was not at all pleased.

Wanted Urgently: A HUSBAND

Decent man who loves children and animals. This needs to happen as soon as possible so no time wasters please. If you’re ready for an unusual experience but not afraid of commitment, please phone: 555-367-713

She was looking for a husband? Oh, so she had too much on her plate to enter into a relationship! A relationship with him at least. No, he didn’t believe that for a second. There had been something big between them simmering and yet she’d rejected him, which meant there had to be something else going on here. “For the love all that is decent and…” Cliff shook his head as he looked at his grandmother’s home made fried chicken and mashed potatoes. All he wanted to do was sit there and enjoy his meal but he couldn’t. What if there was already a line of prospective husbands waiting at the door? Would they be on the up and up? Yeah, right. They probably would be anything but. Besides, it could be Prince Charming himself and he wouldn’t pass muster with him. What type of person looks in the Saturday paper for a wife? This wasn’t the 1800s and Sage was no mail order bride. She was a silly young girl who had obviously gotten herself into some kind of mess. Well, he would help her out of whatever it was like he’d told her he would. He’d offered hadn’t he? He’d told her to call him hadn’t he? He would have been only too happy to help with whatever the problem might be. He still would, first though he was going to paddle some sense into that stubborn backside of hers. He had no idea what was going on in that head, but he was pretty sure he knew what was going on in her heart. Looking for a husband who wasn’t him? That was never going to happen! He shoved an angry forkful of potato into his mouth and picked up a drumstick of chicken to eat on the way there.

Cliff finished his chicken and threw the bone into the trash before he even got to the truck. He stopped to wash his hands under the tap.

Chuck shouted from the outside of the barn. “You going to check on Sage?”

It never even crossed Cliff’s mind to wonder why Chuck assumed he would be checking on Sage, or why his grandfather had strategically left the paper for him to read. “You going to be able to manage the newbies?” Cliff asked, not really caring what the answer might be.

“Sure,” Chuck said, managing to keep his face blank.

Another hand stuck his head around the corner as Cliff’s truck left nothing but dust in it’s wake. “He saw the ad then?”

“I’m guessing,” Chuck said with a smirk. Both men chuckled.

Purchase Links:

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 Author Bio :

 Constance Masters is a wife, mother, grandmother, friend and author.

She writes romantic spanking fiction with the main emphasis on romance.

Constance has always been a sucker for reading romance and that reflects in her writing but she also likes to laugh. Her stories are full of love, laughter and family comedy. It’s a lot like her life.

…see yeez later.. LUV YEEZ!



Filed under Blether, Scribbling & Stuff

…for me, a real bucket list needs contain only one item…

…many of yeez lovely people are aware that my youngest sister succumbed to cancer a couple of days ago… she is not the first person ever to pass that way, nor will she be the last… during the course of our lives, very few of us will be untouched by some sadness or other… that is the way of things… I have no wish to belittle the suffering and anxiety that affects not only the patient especially, but the immediate family and friends on such occasions, but I truly believe these can be used as positive triggers… for a start, for those of us remaining to be grateful for whatever we do have… and I don’t mean tangible stuff like bling, property, and the trappings of wealth… look to yer friendships, the close buddies, those who are there for each of yeez regardless of time and circumstance… the real support infantry at work, at home, and on the SOSYAL NETWURKS… yes, even here on the Web… kindness abounds everywhere… over thirty years ago, this ol’ Jurassic was given a second chance at life, the reasons for which are irrelevant to this blog piece, but from that experience I learned that for me (and I can only speak for myself, of course) there are  only two kinds of day… good days, and better days… if I wake up in the morning and my a*se is falling off, but I’m still breathing, that’s already a good day… the chances of it getting better is my choice…


…for me, a real bucket list needs contain only one item... be positive… every day, every hour, every minute… not the ‘cheery, pain-in-the-butt, wish-he-would-shut-up’ enthusiast… but internally first, and let it show quietly in yer demeanour… they tell me yeez only keep sum’thing by giving it away, and I don’t mean money… it’s worth a wee try… thank you for you… see yeez later… LUV YEEZ!



Filed under Blether, Scribbling & Stuff

…Authors… whenever I need the calmness of a Muse, I indulge the Music of the Gods…

…there are prob’ly relatively few people on this planet who are not capable of being ‘moved’ by some form of art… I’d venture my not-so-‘umble opinion that music takes the lead on those occasions… as an author, I’m frequently asked where do I derive the tranquility that writers often seek during the course of their literary labours… there are a few things which can help me ‘get in the zone’, but when I want truly reflective time, NUTHIN beats Celtic music… and more especially the haunting stuff that seeps through into your soul… it’s the only way I can describe it… when I was in my middle teens, I was gifted with the opportunity to work and live in the Scottish Hebrides on the beautiful Isle of Mull, and acquired back then a taste and an enduring affinity with the Gaelic language and all its emotional expression… the first ever medal I won for singing in competition at the Gaelic Mod was in Tobermory, when I sang a song called ‘Min So Nam Onar‘… in English it means ‘I am here Alone’… it has a gentle, almost plaintive air to it, reflecting the priceless solace and peace of the Highlands and Islands… the clip above, with Davy Spillane playing on the Uilleann Pipes will touch yeez if there’s any essence of the Celt in yer genes… whatever yeez might be doing this moment, I’d recommend taking a few minutes to shut yer eyes, listen, and allow the beauty of the centuries-old sounds reverberate in yeez… whenever I need the calmness of a Muse, I indulge the Music of the Gods… and I make no apology for including samples of it, sharing on my weekly offerings on Facebook and Twitter for yer delight… see yeez later… LUV YEEZ!…



Filed under Blether, Scribbling & Stuff

…such satisfaction when an ol’ Scots Jurassic scribbler’s tonsorial fashion comes full circle…

…not far from where Master Gallacher lived as a ‘wean’ in Docklands Govan in Glasgow, there sat a sort of commercial and light industrial area called Hillington Estate… a ten minute bus ride, or for we kids with less than limited money, a thirty- to forty-minute walk… the attraction for us resided not in the manufacturers buildings nor in the local car sales showrooms dotted around the place… our destination was a one-storey edifice in which trainee hairdresser-college barbers practiced their art on willing human guinea pigs such as ourselves, and even older men whose sparse earnings made free haircuts a welcome service… the more adventurous of we in the junior ranks chose to have almost bi-weekly changes from the styles shown on the black-and-white posters on the walls… (why they never had coloured photos of film stars and the celebrities on there has always baffled me)… suffice to note, the most popular cuts ranged from the ‘Tony Curtis’ (emb’dy remember him?) to the Duck’s Arse, (D.A.),so-named for its dovetailed rear feathering… for the really young fellas such as me, the implicit instructions from my Ma were to get either a half-crew cut, or a full crew cut… the closer the crop the better.. all the easier for her to conduct her regular  ‘free-from-lice-and-nits’ inspections… for several years until about the age of twelve, above my shoulders,

gooseberrySeumas G.I bore a striking resemblance to an oversized gooseberry… of course, the early and later teens developed into the usual Brylcreem period, where a talent developed for hair emulsion plastering… fast forward fifty or so years, and presto hey! lookee here… the last time I peeked in the mirror, an astounding measure of skullish ‘deja vu’ appeared… the return of the gooseberry cut… and I LUV IT… why? ‘cos all it  needs to maintain it is a splash of shampoo in the morning shower, and it’s ready for the entire day… such satisfaction when an ol’ Scots Jurassic scribbler’s tonsorial fashion comes full circle… see yeez later… LUV YEEZ!



Filed under Uncategorized

…Iceland… the wee team that could…


…every now and then, along comes sum’thing to restore yer almost-forgotten romance in sport… 2016 has thrown up two such sparklers in the football WURLD… most of us thrill to the idea of the gazillions-to-1 chance of the complete underdog taking on the rest of the universe and triumphing… as sumb’dy who played the game at a professional level with Scottish First Division side, Third Lanark, albeit 50 years or so ago, Master Gallacher feels more than a passing fellowship with the lads at Leicester City in the English Premier League season just completed, and more recently, the Iceland team at the Euros 2016 tournament… those of yeez of a certain age will recall comparisons with the incredible successes of Nottingham Forest and Derby County teams under the tutelage of the inimitable Brian Clough… the David and Goliath syndrome makes for great theatre, but it’s more than that… the fusing of a team of individual ordinary talents into a squad of extraordinary talent doesn’t happen too often… the old adage generally holds, ‘…a good big guy will always prosper over a good wee guy…’ and by any stretch, in the absurdly over-financed, billion-dollar industry that football has beome, the latest wee guy, Iceland, merits the label of underdog… but, my, my, how they performed… how they fought… how they melded as a unit… every player running himself into the ground in every match… they may have lost their last encounter, with France, but they won the respect and admiration of hundreds of millions of television viewers around the globe… and what about those amazing travelling  fans of theirs!…


…no rowdy, nasty fighting in the streets… all decked in shirts with their country’s team colours… and the incredible ‘thunderclap’ chant (I wonder if Thor knows they’ve nicked that?)… sporting legend and dreams are made of this stuff… Iceland… the wee team that could… we salute them and wish them well… see yeez later… LUV YEEZ!



Filed under Blether, Scribbling & Stuff

…Sean (Connery) Connery versus Seumas (Icon-nery?) Gallacher…

…comparisons are often said to be ‘odious’, but on occasion they can be frighteningly revealing… if yeez just have a wee peek at the table below, some mind-boggling juxtapositioning is …

Source: …Sean (Connery) Connery versus Seumas (Icon-nery?) Gallacher…


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